Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy — Volume 3 eBook

to a height of about twenty feet, were stuck at intervals
strong wooden pegs, serving as steps to the artillerymen
for greater facility in clearing, when foul, the lines
to which the colours were attached. The latter
had been removed; and, from the substitution of a cord
considerably stronger than that which usually appeared
there, it seemed as if some far heavier weight was
about to be appended to it. Gradually the men,
having completed their unusual preparations, quitted
the rampart, and the flagstaff, which was of tapering
pine, was left totally unguarded.

The “Attention!” of Major Blackwater to
the troops, who had been hitherto standing in attitudes
of expectancy that rendered the injunction almost
superfluous, announced the approach of the governor.
Soon afterwards that officer entered the area, wearing
his characteristic dignity of manner, yet exhibiting
every evidence of one who had suffered deeply.
Preparation for a drum-head court-martial, as in the
first case of Halloway, had already been made within
the square, and the only actor wanting in the drama
was he who was to be tried.

Once Colonel de Haldimar made an effort to command
his appearance, but the huskiness of his voice choked
his utterance, and he was compelled to pause.
After the lapse of a few moments, he again ordered,
but in a voice that was remarked to falter,—­

“Mr. Lawson, let the prisoner be brought forth.”

The feeling of suspense that ensued between the delivery
and execution of this command was painful throughout
the ranks. All were penetrated with curiosity
to behold a man who had several times appeared to
them under the most appalling circumstances, and against
whom the strongest feeling of indignation had been
excited for his barbarous murder of Charles de Haldimar.
It was with mingled awe and anger they now awaited
his approach. At length the captive was seen
advancing from the cell in which he had been confined,
his gigantic form towering far above those of the
guard of grenadiers by whom he was surrounded; and
with a haughtiness in his air, and insolence in his
manner, that told he came to confront his enemy with
a spirit unsubdued by the fate that too probably awaited
him.

Many an eye was turned upon the governor at that moment.
He was evidently struggling for composure to meet the
scene he felt it to be impossible to avoid; and he
turned pale and paler as his enemy drew near.

At length the prisoner stood nearly in the same spot
where his unfortunate nephew had lingered on a former
occasion. He was unchained; but his hands were
firmly secured behind his back. He threw himself
into an attitude of carelessness, resting on one foot,
and tapping the earth with the other; riveting his
eye, at the same time, with an expression of the most
daring insolence, on the governor, while his swarthy
cheek was moreover lighted up with a smile of the
deepest scorn.

“You are Reginald Morton the outlaw, I believe,”
at length observed the governor in an uncertain tone,
that, however, acquired greater firmness as he proceeded,—­“one
whose life has already been forfeited through his
treasonable practices in Europe, and who has, moreover,
incurred the penalty of an ignominious death, by acting
in this country as a spy of the enemies of England.
What say you, Reginald Morton, that you should not
be convicted in the death that awaits the traitor?”